


Jack-ing Off

by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Category: Eureka
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 04:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perryvic/pseuds/perryvic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He even sometimes watched movies over Jack's shoulder, because Hollywood pabulum was still better than looking over Fargo's shoulder at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jack-ing Off

The irony of the situation was that Nathan was sure he would have spent billions at Global Dynamics in research to achieve this effect -- on someone else of course -- and here he was condemned to it by accident. He'd spent a long time thinking about it because it evidently wasn't just a phase shift in time since he didn't need food or drink; it was more like he had become made of Time and Space and had become the anomaly he had been trying to stop and, in the process, he was in effect immortal. Insubstantial, invisible, intangible but immortal.

And what did that mean? Another irony. His last words to Carter had been, "I'll see you around, Jack," and never had he been more prophetic.

He spent a lot of time watching Jack. Seeing Jack around. It wasn't that Jack was the only person he watched through the day -- sometimes he just stayed in Café Diem, watching everyone, and watching Allison and his daughter was... maddening, rage inducing, miserable. The sense of separation was unendurable. Watching Jack on the other hand, was like having a comedy channel.

There was something just inherently amusing about Jack. The problem was that he was a smart idiot. Generally amusing to him because he was so far out of his league, but possessed of a type of intelligence that was enough to spark interest. He'd just thought the man had been blind lucky before, but the more he watched, the more he realized that if he had been statistically analyzing it, no math formula in the world would put Sheriff Jack Carter as being 'lucky' all that time. Amusing, intriguing, and (strangely) one of the people he found he missed the most. One of the people he spent too much time watching, because Nathan had nothing but time. He even sometimes watched movies over Jack's shoulder, because Hollywood pabulum was still better than looking over Fargo's shoulder at work. That made him want to shout and yell and tell him to stop missing the obvious, and then to stop doing sloppy calculations.

So once again he was back here in Carter's house and drifting around looking for the man. He was here and home because there was a beer half drunk set the side. The question was, where was he? Not in the living room, not in the kitchen, so probably the bathroom. Nathan had a moment to consider whether he wanted to watch Carter in the bathroom, or not. It was going to have to be a deliberate effort.

In the end, boredom and his curiosity won out. He wanted something new all the time because that was all he could do save calculate math in his head. He had to keep watching, because he was relatively tethered to the area in and around Eureka. Nathan supposed if he tried hard enough, his consciousness might break, and he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to do that just yet. As long as he could do things like filter through the molecules of the bathroom wall, well.

He looked around and oh god, Jack was singing -- if you could call that singing -- which was comedy gold right there and if he had muscles to smile with he could imagine himself smiling.

What he wasn't expecting was for Jack to momentarily step out of the shower groping for something right where he was sitting. Soap, lotion something in a bottle that was apparently important enough that standing naked and singing in the bathroom to apply it was perfectly acceptable.

His hand passed through Nathan, or at least Nathan's awareness, and back out, clutching a bottle of hair conditioner. Nathan had never pegged him for a guy who conditioned is hair, but there he was, pouring out a generous amount onto his hand. He couldn't help but be intrigued when that hand went nowhere near Jack's head.

"Dear god, Carter, hair conditioner? Don't you have lube?" he said aloud as if he was really making a sound.

It felt like a sound -- part of his consciousness -- and it was enough. He watched Jack wrap his fingers tightly around his dick, stroking it far, far too hard as far as Nathan was concerned.

"No, no. You want to do it slowly," he said, unable to stop himself from critiquing the technique. "What's the rush?" It was oddly mesmerizing though, watching. He tended to think of himself as having no shame, and maybe he didn't because maybe he should walk away. But why? It wasn't as if he was ever going to re-corporate. He wasn't. He was doomed to stay a loose collection of out of phase molecules and his consciousness, watching what he wanted to watch.

Jack's jacking off technique was horrible. Too rough, too fast and he had an expression on his face that looked more like he was contemplating whether to wash his socks or get the groceries.

"Slow it down, man, what happened to style, technique?" If Nathan was going to watch a show, he wanted it to be a _show_ , slow and luxurious, with fondling and motions to draw out the sensation. This.... this was painful to watch.

Like most of Jack's life, actually.

Prompted by impulse, he leaned forward murmured in Jack's ear. "Slower, Carter. Slow it down."

And he did. Maybe it was a coincidence, but Jack actually did slow down.

It startled him a little, and he settled back, watching as Jack loosened his stranglehold and started to idle. Much better to watch, that slow slide of hand over dick. It was almost like he could feel it, feel something at least, and that was different. Why could he feel something around Jack and no one else? It was as if the stroke, stroke, idle and tease was so vivid in his mind he could feel it. All he had were his thoughts and imagination. If he wanted to feel it badly enough, he supposed he could; if he watched hard enough, focused hard enough. It was just an imaginative memory, but it felt... good.

Carter was stepping back under the shower and still keeping up the slow and more sensual movements and now there was the added stimulation of seeing hot water trickle over lean muscle. He could say that about Carter, he kept fit. With all of the running and contorting he did, he had to stay muscled just to stay alive. It was functional muscle, not quite someone who knew how to work out at the gym, but still very easy on Nathan's... Well, not eyes. Consciousness. It was like porn. Low budget of course, but they had their charm and the type where plot was most definitely optional. Jack was arching now, surprisingly limber, and Nathan found himself riveted.

Part of the ebb and flow of it, feeling Jack's balls tighten, a slow build towards orgasm.

Maybe they were tied together being the only ones there at the heart of the anomaly. Maybe it was just a very active imagination, but he felt like he wanted to stroke himself as he watched Jack. He wasn't bad looking in his own way. A rough charm, an appealing smile.

He couldn't stroke himself, but he could feel it, he could feel it all, watch Jack and open himself up to the sensations and excited molecules around him. Nerve impulses and signals, muscle motion. Maybe he was letting himself get too involved and who knew what that would do when he was smeared across dimensions, but it felt like his attention was drawing to a point, the point of climax. Even as Jack groaned and exhaled in puffs of air in the flowing shower, he was feeling the thrust, feeling all sensation focus on that one moment, that one point where Jack was ready to come for them both.

The sensation of it was blinding after so long not feeling anything, just being the ultimate voyeur with no body, no life of his own. He was just on the edge, the cusp, waiting, hanging there while Jack worked himself towards it and then through orgasm in a blast of sensation that almost hurt, like he was unfolding.

There was a gasping moment of clarity and then he heard Jack yelp and wondered what the hell he'd managed to do now.

"Holy crap! Wha..."

Oh. Oh, and as the water splashed down over him beading on newly corporal skin, Nathan wondered just what the hell _had_ happened.


End file.
